


The Addict

by ChelleyPam



Series: Dirty Little Secret [3]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, LemonSupreme's Birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:05:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelleyPam/pseuds/ChelleyPam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie goes undercover again.  This time to get her fix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Addict

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LemonSupreme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonSupreme/gifts).



> This is turning out to be a lot more words than I thought. And, of course, I can't avoid going a bit dark. I think I may need therapy.
> 
> Another installment for LemonSupreme's Birthday. 
> 
> I deserve cake for this. Or at least a bottle of Godiva. Did you know it comes in caramel now?

“Charlie? I think you should tell Miles.”

“No!” She shook her head, her eyes wide. “No fucking way. He'll lose it.”

Nora sighed. “He's going to lose it anyway. You can't hide this!”

She couldn't. She knew that. Still, she couldn't tell Miles. 

She turned away from the acrid stench of vomit, pressing her head against the cool metal I beam next to her. “I need time to think. I need figure something out.”

“What is there to figure out?” Nora moved so she was standing in front of her. “Charlie, Miles needs to know what Monroe's done.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “What?”

“I wasn't exactly fighting him, Nora.” She looked around to see if anyone was close enough to overhear. They were alone, the morning guards making their rounds and everyone else still sleeping. “I can't explain it. I didn't mean for it to happen, but I just couldn't...” She trailed off, not able to find any words to explain her madness. 

“Couldn't resist?” Nora's expression was sympathetic. “You think you're the only woman who's felt that way? Hell, I almost gave in. Might have done so if I hadn't been with Miles. Sebastian Monroe has a way with women. He can melt a girl's panties from fifty paces with just a wink.” She reached out and brushed Charlies hair back behind her ear. “You didn't do anything wrong. Miles will understand that.”

She wasn't so sure. “He thinks Miles is my father.” Nora's hand hesitated with a stutter. She looked up and spied something in the older woman's eyes. “What?”

Nora grimaced. “He isn't the only one. I asked Miles about it once.”

“What did he say?”

“He said your mom told him she wasn't sure. That it could be either him or his brother.”

“Oh, lovely. Being a raging slut runs in the family.” She knew she sounded bitter and hateful. She just didn't give a damn. 

“You're not a slut, Charlie. A man who is older and has more experience got you wound up.” Silence fell for a protracted moment. “You need to tell Miles.”

She shook her head again, her mind racing. “No, I can't. At least not yet.” She clasped Nora's hand in her own and squeezed. “Please, just give me a little more time. I need time to figure this out.”

Nora looked at her with friendship and concern, and finally nodded. She reached over and hugged Charlie, holding her close for a long moment for letting her go. “I'm here if you need to talk, okay?”

She threw herself into her work. She went out on raids and scouting missions. She participated in training sessions, learning how to be better. How to be smarter. She sat in on planning missions in case Miles needed her for something.

“He's there.”

“How can you be sure?”

Miles snorted and stood up. “Because I saw that damn tent. The man has them drag along a queen sized bed whenever he's in the field. Feather mattress and all. No other officer has that luxury. Monroe is at that camp.”

“Along with almost fifteen hundred soldiers. We can't risk it.”

They couldn't. They all knew they couldn't. Even Miles. She watched as her uncle/father/whatever ran a hand through his unruly hair. “If only we could know when he sent or a delivery.”

“A what?”

Nora got it. “A delivery. It's code for a whore. Only we can't be certain when he calls for one or which one he sends for and from where. The girls are pre-screened and he'd know if she wasn't the one he was expecting.”

“And we don't have enough time to win one over to our side even if we did. That would be too easy.” Miles shook his head. “We'll have to wait until he's on the move again. Break the column to isolate him.”

Charlie remained quiet as she listened, her mind spinning. She'd been with Miles when they'd scouted and found that camp. She knew the tent he was talking about. A massive one in a sea of smaller ones, all laid out in neat rows. Miles said the camps were laid out like the Romans used to, every camp put together the same so that a soldier from one camp could easily find his way around a new camp without an adjustment period. On one hand, it made them more vulnerable to attack because the enemy could also learn where key points were. On the other hand, it was more efficient.

The planning session wrapped up, everyone with their orders. Charlie wasn't on the rotation for the night, having been working nonstop for the past week. In theory she was supposed to sleep, but her mind wouldn't shut down to let her, no matter how hard she pushed herself in an attempt to wear herself out.

Monroe had gotten his wish. He was in her thoughts any time she let herself slow down enough to think. He was there in her dreams, touching and tasting and teasing her into desperation. She would wake up more often than not with that near painful ache between her thighs, her panties drenched. She tried redirecting her thoughts to other possible partners, even Jason, but she couldn't work up the proper enthusiasm for them. They seemed like pale shadows compared to the Big Bad General. And try as she might to alleviate things by getting herself off, she'd been right; she couldn't bring herself to anything half as grand as what Monroe could wring out of her.

She didn't even bother to try and lay down tonight. She knew it wouldn't be of any use. All she could think about was that camp about two miles away and the large tent presiding over them all. 

She left her crossbow on her cot, taking only her hunting knife and a small pouch with what small amount of funds she'd managed to scrounge together from trading hides and fresh meat. This base was hidden in an old warehouse district in a mid-sized town that held no real love for the Militia but paid excellent lip service. Soldiers had money and they were easy to part from it, so there was a thriving business in bars and brothels. She made her way to one of the later, walking with a casual stride so as not to draw attention to herself.

The one she picked looked clean compared to the others. The girls were prettier and more welcoming, if somewhat bold. She hovered by the wall as she studied them, looking for one that would suit her needs. 

“Hey there, Beautiful. Looking for some company?”

Okay, that was unexpected. 

Charlie turned to find herself looking into the sultry smile of a stunning brunette with hazel eyes. She was looking Charlie over like she was a steak dinner. “It's been a while since we had someone like you come in, and I _like_ playing for the home team.”

Definitely not expected.

Still, she was about Charlie's height. Looked to be about her build, though maybe a little more narrow in the hips. 

“Uhm...actually I was here for something else.”

“Oh?”

Charlie looked her over again. “Yeah. I'd like to buy your dress.”

“My dress?”

“I have a date.”

The woman grinned. “Lucky man. I think we can come to an agreement. Come on.”

They struck the deal in a small room with a wide bed. Charlie had to pay her for the whole night, supposedly giving her the evening off. Her feet were a little too big for a pair of shoes, but for an extra two diamonds the girl secured a pair that fit from one of the other whores. Finally garbed in the lacy blue number that hugged her breasts like a second skin and came down only three inches below her privates, Charlie was ready to move out.

“Let me know if you decide to try swinging the other way,” the girl offered, her eyes still raking over her. “I can think of a lot of things I'd like to do to that body.”

Charlie felt her cheeks flush. “Uhm...thank you.”

“Any time, Baby. I'll keep your things safe while 'til you get back.”

Feeling a bit more certain herself now that another woman so openly confirmed she was attractive, Charlotte started walking down the old highway towards the Militia camp. She wasn't used to the heels but somehow managed not to lose her balance and twist her ankle. She'd have taken them off and walked barefoot until she got within sight of the camp, but in the dark she couldn't be sure she wouldn't step on anything that could damage her.

She allowed herself to have a bit more sway in her hips as she walked up to the sentries. Two leveled rifles her way as the third stepped forward. “State your business.”

She lifted her chin and willed herself to sound confident. “I have a delivery for General Monroe.”

She saw the two riflemen exchange knowing looks. It only now occurred to her to wonder how the 'deliveries' were brought to camp. Was she supposed to have someone in uniform with her to make it official? She relaxed inside as the rifles came down and the third sentry gave her a nod. “This way, Miss. I'm sure he's expecting you.”

Wow. How much of a man whore was Monroe, anyway?

How much of a whore was she to be risking this just to scratch an itch?

He escorted her through the camp. She knew the way to his tent, thanks to Miles drilling her on camp layouts over and over again, but perhaps the usual 'delivery' didn't. She walked just slightly behind the sentry, ignoring the catcalls and whistles that were sent her way by various soldiers as they passed.

He walked her up to the largest tent and nodded to the soldier guarding the door. “Delivery for General Monroe.” The guard gave a sharp nod and reached over to pull the tent flap aside. Out of any chances to make a break for it and back out, she stepped inside, the heavy canvas flap falling close behind her.

He was looking right at her from behind a desk, his eyes wide with unfeigned surprise. She got the drop on him. Oh goody.

“Un-fucking-believable.” He shook his head and shifted in his chair, slouching a bit lower as he examined her. “And you accused me of being into role play. This...this blows the French Maid idea out of the water.”

All the smart ass comments she'd been thinking up on her way from the brothel to here dried up. What had she been thinking, walking into his camp like this? Not just in a hooker dress, but walking in at all. Was she really that hard up?

Yes. Yes she was.

Monroe stood up from his chair, walking slowly around his desk as he beckoned her closer with one hand. “Come in. No need to hover in front of the door like that.” She took a few slow steps towards him, her eyes wary. He circled her, studying her like someone might when they were looking over a fine quality horse they might like to buy. “Clearly my men were too busy checking out your legs and your ass to notice your face. Can't say that I blame them. Damn, Charlotte. I'd almost think it was my birthday.”

Jackass. “You're drooling.”

“Can you blame me?” He was smiling that damn smirk of his when he came back around front. “Let's ignore how you just confirmed for me that Miles is somewhere in the area and get straight to the matter of things. Tell me, these past five weeks, have you been thinking about me as much as I've been thinking about you?”

Yes. Yes she had. Maybe even more. “You may have crossed my mind a time or two.”

He chuckled. “A time or two.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. “Look at you. You're shaking. You need it so badly you can barely stand up. Did you think about me taking you my desk while you were walking here? Maybe stop once or twice to try and take the edge off?” 

Now why hadn't she thought of doing that?

“Can you be any more full of yourself?”

“Says the girl who's dressed up like a harlot and walked into an enemy camp to deliver herself to me.” He stepped back and leaned against the desk, his eyes roaming over her again. “There are...two things I want to be sure we do tonight, Charlotte. The most important one is that I want to fuck you in a real bed. As luck would have it, I happen to have one of those. The other is; I want you naked this time. I want to see every glorious inch of that body.” His voice had grown rough, his eyes almost melting the tawdry dress from her. His hand reached down to adjust himself as he studied her. “Strip.”

It was an order, delivered with a tone that brooked no argument. As though conditioned to obey her hands moved to grasp the dress. She stopped herself, her willful nature not yet willing to bend to him. She lowered her hands and lifted her chin in defiance. “Make me.”

Monroe snarled and lunged forward, grabbing her by her arm and yanking her close. His mouth slashed down over hers, hot and punishing. Her heart raced and she laughed against his mouth as she struggled against him. She wanted to fight back. She wanted to be held down and taken. She wanted to be dominated.

And he was more than happy to oblige. He drug her back behind the ornate screen that cordoned off his bed from the rest of the tent and threw her onto it. She sank down into a mattress far softer than anything she'd felt before, soft enough that she felt as though it would swallow her whole. Strong hands grasped the hem of the dress and yanked at it, pulling it up and over her head to be tossed somewhere out of sight. 

She curled up, hand curled into a fist and aimed at his jaw. He caught it and snatched up her other hand to transfer both into one of his and grip her tight. “Play nice, Charlotte, or you won't get what you need.”

She bared her teeth at him. “I don't need you.”

“Really?” He reached down and plunged a finger into her, her body already slick and tight. “You might try telling this sweet little pussy of yours to get on board. At least one part of you thinks you need me.” He hooked his finger and drug it across the back of the nerves just inside, making her moan and flex her hips towards him. “Oh, you poor thing. See what happens when you run away? You're so on edge. Think of all the time we've wasted.”

Charlie growled, glaring up at him. “Shut up and move your ass!”

He smiled, self assured and convinced he was in charge. He let her hands free so he could divest himself of his own clothing. She'd never seen him completely naked either, and it was a magnificent sight. He was all sculpted planes and muscle, honed and perfected by training. Lamp light played off his skin and she curled back up to run her tongue over the hard expanse of his abs. He moaned, fingers threading through her hair as she raked her nails lightly down his side. 

The length of his cock throbbed against the skin of her breasts. She could smell him, musk and salt and spice. She'd heard of this, but had never done it herself. Curiosity got the better of her and she bent down to lick tentatively at the head of his cock, rewarded by a harsh oath and a jerk of his hips. She felt powerful knowing she could do that to him and dared to wrap her lips around him. He felt silky and hot against her tongue she she tasted and explored. 

He allowed it for a time, murmuring filthy words of encouragement to her until he pulled her back and pushed her back into the mattress. “Tart.” He captured her mouth with his, his tongue invading and hungry as he pushed into her body.

The first two times they'd been together had been quick and rough, time found on whatever surface was available. There was something strangely erotic about having the soft mattress underneath her as Monroe thrust in and out of her. An odd sense of belonging and rightness. She forgot that he was her enemy. Forgot that they were at war with him. When he pulled back to hook his arms under her knees and pull her legs up so her calves were over his shoulders, she cried out in near pain at the deeper penetration. She couldn't move much in his position, but that wasn't the point. The point was that he owned her as he pounded against her cervix. 

He pushed her over that edge and continued to fuck her through the waves, never letting her completely down again until he was ready to join her. Some part of her mind pointed out that this was why she was pissed at him in the first place. Another part of her pointed out that he couldn't do any more damage. 

He withdrew and rolled onto his side next to her, one hand tracing lazy patterns into her skin as they caught their breath. “Feeling better?”

And she hated his smugness. “That'll do.”

He snorted. “Bitch.”

“Jackass.”

He nipped her shoulder playfully and let himself relax next to her. “That was pretty ballsy of you, walking into camp like that. What made you think of it?”

“Miles and Nora explained your hooker code.”

He laughed. “If anyone else had walked through that flap, I would have had them drug off for interrogation.”

“You wouldn't have fucked them first?”

“Probably not. I've been trying to chase down this one particular piece of tail. She really got under my skin.”

Yeah, right. He's been looking for her and not Miles. “Good luck with that.”

“Ever the hard ass.” He let his hand roam over her body, moving from her hip, over her ribs and up to her breasts, testing their weight in his palm, a thumb running over one tender nipple. It felt oddly comforting. She let herself relax. It wouldn't hurt to enjoy resting in a real bed for just a little bit longer. It was probably the most secure bed in the Republic with all those soldiers between them and anyone else. 

“Is there something you want to tell me, Charlotte?”

“Hmm?” She opened her eyes and looked at him. He expression was serious. “What?”

“Anything I should know?”

She rolled her eyes. What a way to kill a buzz. “I'm not telling you where Miles is.”

“I know better than to ask you that. I mean something...more personal.”

Ice slid down her spine. How could he know? He couldn't know. “No.”

His hand drifted over her belly, lower and lower until it came to rest between her hip bones, his fingers flexing slightly to press lightly into her skin. “Nothing?”

She twisted. Before her struggles had been foreplay, an unspoken invitation for him to be firmer. To grip her a little harder. Now she was in earnest. She struck out with a hard fist, clocking him in the ear. He grunted and countered, pinning her to the bed under his weight, hands out to the sides. 

“Be still, Charlotte! I don't want to hurt you.”

“Get off me!”

“Are you going to behave?”

“I'll fucking _kill_ you!”

“Sounds like fun. You wanna do that first or go a couple more rounds?”

She lunged up as much as she could with his hands holding and latched her teeth into the meaty flesh of his pecs. He yelled and tried to jerk away, giving her enough room to bring her knee up. She missed his groin but smashed into his inner thigh with enough force to make him roll to avoid a more serious injury. Taking the opening she used her legs to shove him off the bed and crashing onto the floor of the tent before springing out and grabbing the first weapon she could lay hands on. Monroe came running out from behind the screen to face the point of one of his own swords.

“Charlotte, what are you going to do? Run out of this camp naked?”

“If I have to.”

“You won't get ten feet before those soldiers see you. Put the sword down and let's talk about this.”

“Nah, I'm thinking you aren't going to let any of those soldiers lay so much as a finger on me. You don't strike me as someone who likes to share.”

“Put that sword down. Right. Now.”

She'd had her fun. She'd scratched her itch. Gotten her fix, if you will. If he thought she'd cow tow to him, he was deluding himself. “I don't take orders from you. You got a hot body and you know what to do with your dick. I've gotten all I need from you tonight.”

“What about tomorrow night? And the night after that? Or the one after that?” He took a step towards her. She took a step back. “This is silly, Charlotte. Put it down. Let's talk. We can even get dressed first if you like. Sit with the desk between us and keep our hands to ourselves until we're done. Then we can spend all day tomorrow wrapped up together.”

That sounded really good, actually. But she wasn't entirely lost just yet. “Not happening.” 

“I'll break camp. Send the men back to their usual duty stations. I'll even issue a full pardon for Miles if that's what you want. Just come here.” There was a rustling of canvas as the flap behind her was opened. Cool air rushed in and Monroe threw up a hand. “Stand down!”

“General?” Baker. She remembered that voice. 

“Stand down. Lower your weapons.”

She felt a smile stretch her lips. “See? I told you so.”

Monroe's eyes grew bright and serious, his whole demeanor changing from that of trying to negotiate to one of a general planning his next campaign. “Fine. Go. Run along home to Miles, Charlotte. No one will stop you.”

She tightened her grip on the sword, not completely trusting him. They had to make one hell of a sight; both naked with her holding his sword. She hoped Baker enjoyed the view of her ass. 

Charlie shifted her eyes from Monroe to Baker as she edged towards the door of the tent. The captain looked stunned, the expression on his face so funny she almost broke out into a laugh. As she reached the opening, however, Monroe threw his final salvo. 

“I'll even give you time to say your good-byes. But after that, Charlotte...after that I'm coming for you. There's no place you'll be able to hide from me, and you know it.”

Her eyes flew back to his, studying his expression. He meant every word. The knowledge of that made her stomach flip over in a manner she wasn't sure was entirely bad. 

Charlotte swallowed and ducked out through the opening, the sword still gripped in her hand as she ran off into the night.


End file.
